On the Fly

Despite it being a working day, it has been one that has very much involved the kids. To start with, it was Master P’s first day of work experience in the research labs at the Faculty of Life Sciences at the University of Manchester and I had to drive him into town and make sure he got to where he needed to be.

There is a great bus service that runs from Piccadilly Station to the university and the hospitals and we arrived on time to be met by Dr RC who had arranged it all for him. She was around 30 years old and clearly very good at selling the idea of the sciences as a career option as we chatted as we strolled back to Oxford Road for me to get the bus back.

Master P turned up at my office at 3.15 and he had obviously enjoyed his day analysing DNA of all things. (Always thought that stood for National Dyslexic Association.) They had been expecting an A-level student, so it was pitched pretty high, but he quite liked that. He will be working in three other labs this week and attend a major symposium on Friday.

The sad thing is that he will have to keep shtum about his experiences when he gets back to school. I know this might upset some readers, but we were not exactly encouraged when we got him the placement and we know that if he talks about it at school they will react negatively because they would see it as getting ideas above his station.

Which is a pity because having opened the door to a great opportunity for future promising science students, you’d think they’d be cultivating our contact as an alternative to working in play groups and other ‘exciting’ work placements.

But enough of the griping. Later in the day I was chatting to someone I know at a local commercial radio station and when we’d finished our business, she asked whether my daughter liked McFly. I had to think for a moment as I lose track of Miss P’s musical tastes when I pulled up short thinking, “Don’t be stupid, she’s got their poster on her wall.”

So a brace of tickets for the best seats in the house are hers. And it will mean that she is home for the weekend two weeks after starting at Sheffield which Mrs P will appreciate. (She is already shedding tears at the prospect of her best mate going away.) And major brownie points and fixer kudos for yours truly.

Don’t you just love it when a plan comes together.

Nobody’s prefect. If you find any spelling mistakes or other errors in this post, please let me know by highlighting the text and pressing Ctrl+Enter.

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